Lord, we come to your Word with squashed dreams, devastated visions, and tremendous fears about the future. Breathe hope into our lives. Guide us with the light of the Hope Candle into new beginnings. Burn away the darkness with Hope today, Amen.

Mrs. Smith was one helluva teacher sent from Heaven. I know because I had her for English. I know because I watched her put up with Ed. Ed didn’t want to be in school, Ed didn’t want to learn the puns of Shakespeare or the alliteration of Blake, and Ed didn’t want to be told what to do.

Through it all, Mrs. Smith never gave up. She’d offer extra time on tests he had no intention of completing. She’d push him to enter rap lyrics into a poetry contest, but Ed didn’t do extra work. She’d encourage him to redo the homework he turned in before she graded it, but all this was casting pearls before swine. Ed didn’t care. His apathy, a black hole, sucked the energy and impetus around him. Ed didn’t care. But Mrs. Smith cared, and she never gave up on him.

Today’s world has joined what some psychologists call the ‘cult of self.’ At the expense of self-awareness and self-limitations, we boost self-esteem eclipsing reality in exaggerated egocentric effigies of us. We know the education system is failing, yet more students get A’s and Honors than ever before. If a C is the average, how come so few kids get them? Ivy League Students were surveyed and 80% of them claimed to be in the top 5% of their class. And everyone gets a trophy.

But it’s not just kids… Social Media enables us to tell the world about us and to live in a world that revolves around us. We Instagram what we’re eating, tweet the songs we’re singing, and post “Best Vacation Ever” every time we slip away. Narcissism rises as we can literally count how many likes, shares, comments, friends, and followers we have. We create monsters who no longer can be told they are incorrect and will not admit that they made a mistake all in the name of the god called self-esteem.

In Matthew 13, Jesus tells us a parable about farming. We show up clutching to our report cards, trophies, awards and affirmations; Jesus ruins it. God loves us, but some of us just aren’t going to get it. The parable of the sower casting out his seeds is pretty familiar to all of us. We know about the different types of soils: the path, the rocks, the thorns, and of course the good soil. And each time we hear this parable, we tell ourselves the same things: “I’m so glad I’m the good soil,” or “I used to be like that soil, but now I’m the good soil,” or “here’s a list of things I have to do to make sure I’m the good soil.” We are so focused on ME! ME! ME! we’ve retitled this parable. No longer is it the parable of the sower but the parable of the soil.

Jesus tells us about God. Jesus lets us know God doesn’t give up on us. Jesus is tells us about God’s wasteful generosity. A farmer goes out to plant. How many farmers do you know cast seed out on Highway 58? How many farmers do you know throw seed on rocks or among thorns on purpose? How many farmers do you know who are tighter than spandex on an 800 lbs gorilla? Farmers I know count their fingers after they shake your hand.

God is not your average farmer. Our Lord is so generous every soil gets seed. God loves the road. God loves us when we are hard and mean as asphalt. God loves the rocky soil. God loves us when we are shallow, undisciplined, and unwilling to let his love affect us deeply. God loves the soil with thorns and thistles. God loves us when we let money, worry, friends, and family come before what really matters. God loves the good soil. God loves us when we are ready to receive his Word, take it into our lives, and bear fruit.

This is not a story about us. This is a story about God’s wasteful generosity. God is willing to love even when there is little chance the love will be returned. Our part in the story is to love like God loves.

Jesus sat down by the sea and told us a story about God: the most generous, loving, wasteful farmer the world has ever known. Let’s be honest, some folks are just not going to get it, but that doesn’t stop God from loving them. It shouldn’t stop us from loving as well. God gives so much grace in the world that some of the grace is going to waste. Some folks just aren’t going to follow Jesus. Yet, God doesn’t give up on them… and neither should we. After all, it’s what Jesus would do.

There are some Christmas Traditions that won’t die – like going to church on Christmas Eve. The tradition I grew up in didn’t go to church on Christmas Eve. Midnight Mass sounded too Catholic for them. Instead, my family’s tradition was to open our gifts from ma and pa on Christmas Eve knowing on Christmas Day we would go to the extended family Christmas. The one where you got all these gifts you didn’t want from Aunts and Uncles you wouldn’t see again until the next family gathering.

The irony is the first Christmas Eve service I ever went to was in a Catholic Church. I was at college in Danville. Two of my good friends were Catholic, so when they invited me, I went. The priest was very open and joyful. He didn’t care that I wasn’t Catholic. So when the time came for me to receive communion, I went forward with everyone else. And that’s when I encountered the wafer.

I’m not sure what brand of dissolvable cardboard the priest gave me, but it wasn’t bread. Bread has flavor. Bread has texture. Bread travels down to your stomach with a sensation that is real, sensual, and gratifying. Not so with the wafer. It had no flavor. It had no texture save the distinct realization by my tongue something had been placed on it with a micro-measure of weight. And after it dissolved in my mouth, I’m not sure any remnant made it any further down the pipe.

I’m not trying to poke fun at our Catholic sisters and brothers. I respect their understanding and practice of the Lord’s Supper. Yet it occurs to me that many times that wafer represents my own experience in spirituality. It lacks flavor. There are times that I can’t tell you the last time I tasted the joy of the Lord’s presence. It lacks texture. There are long places in my own life where I don’t feel as if God is with me; quite the opposite of Emmanuel. It leaves me hungry.

At the first church I served as pastor, I was reminded of this by a 4 year old boy named Cody. It was an ordinary Sunday with ordinary hymns. You might say we were going through the motions. I’m sure it was the first Sunday of the month, because we were having communion. Folks were coming up to the rail in groups as was tradition. They knelt and received a torn bit of bread which they were invited to dip into the cup. But the ordinary disappeared when little Cody received his bread.

“Is that all I get?” He had said it as any 4 year old would have said it. Quiet enough that the entire congregation heard him. Loud enough to embarrass his mother and father. But what struck me was his honesty about the hunger. He didn’t come here for wafers or crumbs. Cody wanted the flavor, the texture, the fulfillment. Cody wanted the feast, all that God would give him. Cody wanted to experience God at the table.

You may be asking what does this have to do with Jesus, the Stable, the Manger, etc. God didn’t offer us fast food solutions, but instead offered us a full multi-course feast in this babe, in this birth, in this life, in this death, and in this resurrection. He could have been born in a palace, yet he chose a stable. He could have had Angels announcing his coming to all humanity, yet he chose shepherds in a field. He could have picked any town – Rome, New York, Washington DC, yet he chose Bethlehem, a Hebrew word that translates as “House of Bread.” He could have had the best Tempurpedic, double down, plush bed for his crib, yet mother Mary laid him in a manger – fancy word for a “feeding trough” for animals.

We didn’t come here for a little snack or a bit of fast food. We came here for the whole experience of who Jesus is. Tonight we celebrate his coming to us. Tonight we are invited to experience the whole of who God is in a little child laid in a manger. Tonight we are invited to experience the whole of who God is in a candle light dinner of a little bread and a little wine. Thank God some traditions won’t die. Amen.

Note: I’ll be using these at my Midnight Mass service for 2016. They could be used in separate services, however, for future years. Please feel free to edit the places of conflict mentioned under the Candle of Peace.

We light this candle in hope.

Hope for salvation from apathy and hatred.

Hope for change in our hearts and minds.

Hope for holding hands instead of holding wounds.

Hope to warm us in the dark of night.

We light this candle for peace.

Peace for hearts shell-shocked with grief.

Peace for places like Aleppo, Mosel, and Yemen.

Peace for Police and Protester.

Peace to shine in the dark of night.

We light this candle for joy.

Joy for a family finding a place for the birth.

Joy for a baby born in a stable.

Joy for shepherds sharing good news.

Joy to comfort in the dark of night.

We light this candle in love.

Love for Emmanuel, God with us.

Love for Jesus, Savior born this night.

Love from God; Love come down.

Love to bring light in the dark of night.

Light this candle for Christ.

Christ, the Child who gives us Hope.

Christ, the Promised Prince of Peace.

Christ to whom the Angels sing – “Joy unspeakable!”

Christ, God’s Love. Emmanuel. God with us.

Jesus, Love divine that came down from heaven.

Jesus, Joy that awakens each heart this night.

Jesus, Peace to quell the fears and wars of humanity.

Jesus, Hope in this darkness.

God lights this Candle for you and me.

God lights this Candle giving us the best gift possible.

God lights this candle to comfort us in the warmth of hope and joy.

God lights this candle to shine peace and guide us to love in the dark of night.

God light this Candle for Christmas, and may its flame never extinguish.